


Feels Like Torture

by FH14



Series: Fictober 2019 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, Dry Humping, Frottage, M/M, Minor Jack Kline/Dean Winchester, Orgasm Denial, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-22 17:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21305816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FH14/pseuds/FH14
Summary: Belphegor starts making passes at Dean, which is the last thing he wants to deal with while trying to avert an apocalypse.
Relationships: Belphegor/Dean Winchester
Series: Fictober 2019 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1509083
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58
Collections: Kinktober 2019





	Feels Like Torture

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a few days late for Fictober due to some extenuating circumstances (meaning I spent way too much time sleeping and not enough writing). I did my best with tagging, but in general, the same warnings that come with the Belphegor character as he's depicted in canon apply here as well. Also contains spoilers for Season 15, Episode 1, and _could_ be considered canon compliant if you squint.
> 
> This fic is a fill for the [Kinktober Challenge](https://kinktober2019.tumblr.com/post/187716977021/kinktober-2019-prompt-list) prompt "Frottage".

Dean prided himself on knowing what to expect when dealing with demons. He'd been stabbed; attacked, and betrayed by so many he'd long since lost count. He'd even become a demon at one point, so he felt like, of anyone on earth, he knew what to expect whenever he crossed paths with one.

But being kissed by a demon? That was one thing he wasn't expecting. Which, honestly, wasn't ringing endorsement of his instincts considering what had gone down with Sam and Ruby a few years back.

If he were to give himself a modicum of credit, though, the fact that the demon in question was inhabiting the body of someone he'd regarded as a son hadn't really lent itself to that line of thinking.

"Get off," Dean yelled as soon as their lips parted, pushing the creature away from him.

Belphegor mere merely stared at him sheepishly, giving him an exaggerated shrug that was so unlike Jack. "Can't blame a guy for trying to shoot his shot."

"Actually, I can," Dean hissed balling his hand into a fist. "Our deal's off. Get out of here before I beat your ass back down into the ground myself."

"Ya see," Belphegor said, pointing at him in with that detached, exaggerated manner he always seemed to have, "it's words like those that really make a centuries old demon swoon."

Dean reached for his knife.

"Ah, okay, look," Belphegor said, throwing his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry, okay? It's just that I've been a fan for so long, and when I saw how attractive you were… let's call it a moment of temporary weakness."

Dean glared at the demon, drawing his hand away from the knife.

Belphegor slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides. "Listen, we need each other if we're going to solve this little ‘every spirit escaping from hell' thing." He gestured at the dome above him before adding, "You can put up with a schoolboy crush for a little longer, right?"

* * *

Dean should've stabbed Belphegor right then and there.

Hell, if it hadn't meant slicing open Jack's body, he probably would have. That entire conversation had wormed its way under his skin in a way that put him even more on edge the rest of the day. It only got worse when he caught Belphegor not-so-subtly checking him out.

Frankly, the fact that he was inhabiting Jack's body disturbed him more than the fact that he was a demon. Even with the glasses, he could feel the way Belphegor was looking at him. The desire, a kind of lust that felt more depraved than anything he could imagine. And the fact that it was emanating from Jack's body made him feel sick.

He managed to last a whole day before he brought it up again. They were checking the inside of one of the abandoned houses, and Belphegor was staring at his ass so blatantly he felt himself blush. "You need to stop."

"Thought you'd be more used to it," Belphegor shrugged, looking as detached and unconcerned as ever.

"What on earth would make you think that?"

"Guy as hot as you, I'm sure people are checking you everywhere you go," He said. There was nothing teasing or mocking in his tone. It came off completely matter-of-fact, like he was stating the most glaringly obvious thing in the world. "Like, ever since we came into this house, I've been thinking about you nailing me into that couch."

"Shut up!"

"Oh crap, sorry," Belphegor said, holding up his hands. No, Jack's hands. "Are you a bottom? I mean, you do have a really nice ass so I guess that checks out."

In one fluid motion, Dean grabbed Belphegor by the collar of his shirt, throwing him up against the wall and pulling the knife out of his pocket again. "I've had enough of you," he hissed.

"I could use more of you," Belphegor laughed, and Dean leaned closer, only to realize with sickening horror that the demon was very, very turned on by this.

The revelation threw him in a way he wasn't expecting. He knew deep down he couldn't kill Belphegor, at least not yet. As much as he hated to admit it, they still needed him. But threatening him only seemed to make the demon hot and bothered.

Staring up into that shit-eating grin that didn't resemble the Jack he knew at all, Dean felt his stomach twist as a new, terrible sensation overtook him.

Dean leaned over and kissed him.

Every single thing about this that repulsed him boiled to the surface, igniting something within him he hadn't felt sense he was trapped in hell. A depraved need to survive, to take what he wanted in the moment.

He thrust up against Belphegor, the demon whimpering as his jeans became more constricted.

"This what you want?" Dean asked, thrusting harder up against him. Belphegor merely gasped, his body flush against the wall. He didn't reach out for Dean, as if any additional contact would make Dean come to his senses. Instead he stared straight at Dean, the tint of his sunglasses not giving anything away.

Dean growled in frustration, punching the wall next to Belphegor. The demon let out a shrill, nervous laugh, but still stayed in the same position. Still staring at him with that same unreadable expression.

The stalemate continued for a moment longer before Belphegor started to tremble, his breathing hitching as he struggled to maintain eye contact with Dean.

"You gonna cum?" Dean asked, the words dripping off his tongue like acid.

"Yeah," Belphegor murmured, the word ragged in between breaths.

"Too bad," Dean hissed.

He pulled away from the wall quickly. One moment his body was pressed up against Belphegor's, and then the next he was halfway across the living room, staring at the demon as he let out a strangled cry and fell to the floor. Dean stopped for a moment, watching Belphegor curl up on the floor, desperately pawing at himself.

"As soon as we're done here, I'm killing you myself," Dean said, letting all the anger inside him bleed out into his words.

He turned to go, sheathing the knife. But as he took his first step, he heard that familiar, shit-eating giggle ring out behind him.

"It's been an honor to be tortured by you!" Belphegor's laugh suddenly turned into a groan, and Dean knew the demon had finally reached his peak.

He walked out in silence, ignoring the soft laughter behind him, and the tightness in his own jeans.


End file.
